


Drawing

by Desdimonda



Series: Not Without You [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Artist Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes Feels, Bucky Barnes's Metal Arm, Drabble, Fluff, M/M, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-06
Updated: 2018-03-06
Packaged: 2019-03-27 21:41:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13889691
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Desdimonda/pseuds/Desdimonda
Summary: A small gift drabble with the prompt 'drawing'.





	Drawing

Steve liked the way the candle light flickered against the metal, casting its breathy glow over the ridges, the hinges and plates. Something gentle, yet fierce - like Bucky.

Once, the cold, glaring metal of his arm had been a weapon, an extension of his captors to enact their will. A symbol, emblazoned with the red star, to make sure everyone knew who he belonged to.

That, Steve understood.

But now, his arm was just Bucky. To Steve, really, it always had been.

The scratch of his pencil over paper was a comfort. Much like the gentle clicks, the hisses, the whines Bucky's arm made when it moved. Like just now when he scratched his leg.

“Can I see?” said Bucky, leaning closer to Steve as he set his book on his lap.

“Number 1 of what not to say to an artist,” said Steve, nudging him back with his foot.

“Ass.” Bucky smirked, tickling Steve's foot with his cold fingers. He shifted around on the sofa to face Steve, tucking his legs underneath.

“Hey no. Turn back. Sit how you were. Just for a bit.” Steve slid a foot along the inside of Bucky's thigh.

Bucky rolled his eyes with a smile. “The arm again?” Bucky shifted back and rolled his shoulder, his fingers flexing back and forth; back and forth.

Running a hand down his arm, Steve felt the small twitch Bucky had developed since his rescue from Azzano. It came and went. Went completely when Bucky did and the Winter Soldier existed. But now that the memories came back along with Bucky, so did it.

Soft metal clicks filled the air as Bucky tried to get comfortable; as he feigned returning to reading his book, not realising it was upside down.

“Good book?” Steve slid his hand along his forearm, once, twice, feeling the rough ridges of power, the scratches of memories, the hinges that had shaped the world.

“Mmmmmm.”

Steve shuffled closer and gently took the book from his hand, replacing it with his sketchbook.

“There's a few pages,” said Steve, resting his chin on Bucky's shoulder.

Bucky ran a finger across the page, echoing the shape of his arm sketched several times. Stretched; curled; relaxed; sketches of his hand like it was just…a hand, and not a weapon, drawn with such detail like it was something to be admired.

Or even beautiful.

Bucky turned his metal hand over, holding it next to the one Steve had sketched.

“Why do you like it so much?” he said, flexing his fingers.

“Because it's part of _you_ ,” said Steve, setting his hand next to Bucky's.


End file.
